


Sew The Wounds

by Written_prose_things



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alpha Derek Hale, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Spark Stiles Stilinski
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-22
Updated: 2020-09-22
Packaged: 2021-03-07 20:41:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 717
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26593861
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Written_prose_things/pseuds/Written_prose_things
Summary: Stiles hates being stowed away in the bunker whenever the pack faces a new threat. Because, Deaton says, that his inability to control his spark might level the whole town under pressure.This time, when the pack returns to get him after a conflict, Derek is badly hurt...
Relationships: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski
Comments: 2
Kudos: 107





	Sew The Wounds

**Author's Note:**

> My ask box is always open. [Drop a prompt anytime.](https://written-prose-things.tumblr.com/)

Stiles stars at the door of the bunker with contempt. He didn’t know he could hate an object this much. 

The light bulb in the other corner of the room flickers on and off affected by his mood. Stiles wills the electricity to stabilise, hating the proof of why he’s handcuffed to the pipes in the bunker while the pack fights the hunters. 

His pack bonds reverberate with aggressiveness and anger, fueling his energy. Suddenly, he feels one of his pack bonds tug at him.   
  
Someone’s hurt. Badly. 

And then, Stiles stops receiving any messages through the bonds. 

Stiles groans in frustration and lets his spark loose within the bunker. He hates the pack for trying to shield and coddle him. 

After what feels like hours, he hears the door of the bunker unlock. Stiles throws himself towards the door, even though he’s tied to the opposite wall. 

The cuffs cut into his wrists. 

Derek steps into the bunker. 

“Would you stop? I’m coming to open the cuffs.“

“Who got hurt?“

Derek doesn’t answer him, choosing instead to uncuff him. 

As soon as his hands are free, Stiles swats Derek on the arm, “Tell me.”

It takes Stiles a moment to realise that something is wrong. 

Usually, even when he means to, he can barely hurt the werewolves.   
Right now, Derek is wincing in pain. 

“It’s you, isn’t it? You’re the one who’s hurt?“

Derek walks to the door of the bunker slowly. Now that Stiles is paying attention, he also noticed his bent and slow his gait is. 

Stiles tries to offer his hand to Derek without seeing conspicuous, as they trundle through the undergrowth of the preserve back to Stiles’ car.   
Derek despises being pitied. 

Stiles tries to ask once again when they’re travelling back to the loft. 

“Are you hurt?“

He can sense all the broken bones and twisted appendages with his spark but wants Derek to tell him. 

Derek replies gruffly, “I’m fine.”

Stiles barely suppresses his urge to hit the alpha. 

“Oh, you’re fine, are you? Well, that solves everything, doesn’t it! I’ll put that on your tombstone, he said-“ Stiles lowers his voice, “-’I’m fine’, he was not.“

Derek rolls his eyes, “Stop being so dramatic.”

Stiles hates his voice for going three octaves higher, “Dramatic? You better now have just said that.”

Stiles continues to rant as they reach the loft. Derek reaches the end of his patience when they’re about to step into the loft, and Stiles still hasn’t stopped lecturing him. 

“Look, it’s done. I already got hurt, and it’s healing already. So what can I do right now, to calm you down?“

Stiles’ long-winded sentences peter out and he mumbles, “Can I look over all the scrapes for you?”

Stiles can see Derek’s confusion written clearly on his face. Stile hates looking at blood and gore, but his need to keep Derek safe overpowers his queasiness. 

They move to the bathroom. Stiles pulls a barstool inside and pushes Derek onto it before taking out the first-aid box.

Derek pulls his shirt off, unprompted. Stiles gulps and looks away. He wills himself to focus on something, _anything_ other than Derek’s chiselled body. This is not the time to be thirsting after his boyfriend. 

When he turns around again, Stiles’ attention gets pulled away from how pretty Derek looks, to studying the thousands of bruises and cuts across his upper body. 

Stiles dips cotton swabs in the disinfectant and starts cleaning the wounds, muttering uselessly. 

He decides to double his practice time with Deaton. He’ll figure out how to get around his dislike for the druid. But he isn’t sitting around in the bunker while his boyfriend and the pack get hurt. 

By the time Stiles finishes wrapping Derek’s chest in bandages and turns him around, the alpha’s back is almost already healed.

Stiles sighs, “Don’t tell me, you’re already healed.”

Derek chuckles softly. 

Stiles whines, “Oh my god, I’m so useless.”

Derek turns around and grabs him by the shoulder, pulling him in. He kisses Stiles softly. 

“I told you I was fine.“

With the way in which the sides of Derek’s eyes crinkle, Stiles can’t find it in himself to get upset. 

After all, he’s going to be there the next time the pack gets into trouble. 

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by: [this post](https://incorrectstevebucky.tumblr.com/post/629925916159721472/steve-im-fine-bucky-oh-youre-fine-good)  
> Don't forget to leave a kudos or a comment! I'd love to interact!


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